(continued from “breaking bubbles (chapter 1)”…
…….. “I unhooked my nails from his buttocks which I’d inadvertently dug them into. There would be marks, there were, fingernail-shaped…”)
Following a short adjournment to the bathroom he led me to the bedroom.
We were still partially-dressed, but also partially undressed, my knickers and tights somewhere in the other room. His trousers held just with a single button, his shirt he’d already put out of harm’s way. He reminded me on the way, remember you said “take me”, well I just did, and now for the other part “use me”. I did say that, didn’t I, I thought. I was still dazed and let him guide me where he gently pushed me onto the bed where I fell onto my back legs hanging over.
If there was ever a case of you reap what you sow then this was turning out to be. He dropped his jeans and stood totally naked before me, lean and fit, his penis dangling not yet ready for another round I would’ve said. He wasn’t letting that deter him though as he kneeled between my thighs and spread them, pushed me back onto the bed and started once again to eat me out. My sex still flushed, my clit still swollen form what we’d just done. I laid back, stared at the ceiling and grinned and winced at the sheer pleasure he was giving me. Originally I thought at best we’d have sex, but didn’t imagine how long it would last and where it would take us, and here I was being taken to wherever.
His tongue now seemed to know his way around my inner sanctum as it slipped across my labial folds with perfect dexterity, my tummy rising and falling, my hips moving in time, my hips squirming every time he hits the spot as I was giving him what he wanted, he was taking it and he was giving me what I clearly needed. He unzipped my skirt and pulled it off and continued his oral choreography bringing me again ever closer to orgasm which I held on the edge as long as possible until he raised my legs and what felt like dived deep into me and then I could resist the release. Again he lapped my in as I was caught in its torrent for what felt like ages but only seconds. I yanked my legs away and closed them so sensitive I had now become and was shaking all over.
Then he was leaning over me, pulling off my tight shirt and moving me up to the bedhead. I was by now a rag doll, so momentarily spent by what we’d just done, again, and was only dimly aware of his tying one wrist to the bedpost and then taking the free one to bind to the other. I just looked at him, questioning asking, umm, what are you doing? But, I found myself smiling too, although slightly nervously.
I was naked, he was naked, the difference being he had control now as I lay there tugging gently on the soft silken scarves he used. His sex hung semi-limp, clearly not yet ready for another bout of unbridled intercourse. Kneeling at the foot of the bed he ran his hands up my closed legs, along the side of my body, dipping in and out of my waist, along the sides of my breasts which were still hidden in my bra, the only item of clothing I had left. He lingered here, taking his time over both, caressing quite lovingly enticing sensations from my entire body in response. My breath again felt indulgent.
Easing one bra cup down, he leaned over and kissed my nipple, tasted my nipple, biting my nipple, tugging it and repeating the process. He did the same to the other, until they were both erect, aroused, as I was intensely now. He seemed pleased with himself. He kissed my tummy his hands playing around my waist again, holding, releasing, gripping, fingers leaving invisible trails until once more he was over my nude mound, my bare folds, naked sex, kissing, licking, tasting, biting. It was exhilarating now being so tender following already two orgasms and I knew there were so many more to come, I just knew, I felt it, my entire body screamed it.
He urged my legs apart, further, further, I felt more exposed but excited, more vulnerable, but aroused. I was glistening between, my lips swollen, his breath so close, gentle, teasing, then his tongue again, moving like a serpent ready to devour me. His mouth clamped around me and sucked and sucked and I squirmed and squirmed, he dragged his fingernails down my hips, along my legs, again, again. Inside I cried, more, more, don’t stop, yes stop, don’t stop, yes, stop, stop, it was almost unbearably erotically-charged, heart-stoppingly lustful. I pulled against the ties, they held me, I lifted my buttocks, my hips, he slipped his hands beneath and kept me raised ensuring him even deeper access into such intimacy.
I couldn’t escape and didn’t want too, but was worried I would faint, or even die from the pleasure. What a way to go. Another orgasm threatened and I felt torn inside between delay and relief. I arched and found it was too late, the decision was made for me as he bit around my clit and I once again surrendered to the inevitable and cum. He kept at me as I tried to close my thighs, he wouldn’t let me.
The ties held me.
I almost tried to lever myself away but he just moved with me up the bed. This orgasm was so almost unbearable after the others I tried to tell him to wait, hold on, give me a minute, but the words kept being snatched away by events, and his grip, his own determination to, as he said, use me.
After it had subsided enough for me too not pass out, he was slithering up my body and as his face faced mine we kissed. Bliss, I thought, respite, but as we did his groin was now rubbing against mine, his almost-erection along my labia and then between my legs but no inside me, just pressed, moving, twitching, covering himself in my juices. With his legs he held my thighs now closed as his cock we between them like a promise.
He pressed against me harder. We kissed more passionately. His hips squirmed up and down rubbing his erection against my sex, making it clear that any second he might be inside me, bare and raw, my now wet offering, just one shift to the right, or left, an inch here, or there and in he would go, all at once, hard and deep.
His chest pressed onto my breasts, we writhed now together, me the best I could considering my arms were bound to the bedpost so I just followed his rhythm. Between my legs he felt so thick, hard, ready, and yet he delayed, bided his time. Would he, wouldn’t he?
He slid away and stood up at the foot of the bed and just looked while he masturbated, bringing his weapon of choice to life, although it was clearly throbbing with intention and desire already. I watched, compelled to do so watching it growing between his fingers, thickening, skin stretching over it and veins becoming more prominent. He watched me watch him, his hips hypnotically moving in slight mock-thrusts. He was growing increasingly aroused, a pearl of precum appeared on its tip and rolled underneath, clinging like dew to a leaf until his motion spread it along his shaft. I was mesmerised watching a man masturbate like this, tied to the bed, I so wanted to touch myself but couldn’t, to rub, to ease the moistness between my thighs.
The more I watched the more I imagined it once again penetrate me as it had already done so once. I wanted to taste it, to taste him again.
His eyes seemed to drink me in, seemed to take a series of snapshots which at a later date he might when on his own pleasure himself again and again. Perhaps that’s just wishful-thinking, believing he wouldn’t just move onto his next adventure with whoever, like me, is in need of bursting their bubble. Now he was hard, very hard, pointing right at me, albeit in a slightly curved way. He kissed my ankles, and was again exploring my body from toe to knee to hips to breasts to neck and round and round he went, in the water does as it flows over you, wave after wave. As I was lost in this his fingers entered me and began fucking me slowly but deliberately, two fingers twisting inside me making me open again, widening like an offering. Then he was tasting them again, then back in me again.
I heard myself moaning, how could I not. It was almost therapeutic and in a way it was, something I needed, we both clearly needed, to be touched, aroused, used, used and used.
I strained against the ties which still held me.
His face appeared before mine when I opened my eyes after almost drifting away with the sensations it evoked and before I could blink he was again inside me, his now alert erection was forcing its way, into my deepest recesses, easier this time so moist was I. He was all the way in and then without warning we started to fuck but this time with much more ferocity, our passions now raised to melting.
Our hips bucked, he raised himself arching back like a bear about to attack and thrust his hips even harder, sending my legs out and my knees high. We collided again and again just like that. I wanted to grab him, scrape my nails down his skin, feel his heat but I couldn’t, instead I pressed my legs against his hips and went with the flow, the motion, the urgency.
It lasted for ages, such stamina we both had, such will-power he had to not cum so quick, but I supposed the second time he was more in control. He was in control. He quickened and slowed, I held him and watched and felt everything, everywhere, we were both fully present, there and nowhere else, minds, bodies and souls. So much to give and so much to receive, and I knew what I was about to receive. Hallelujah!
After an age he reached his climax and just before he did so did eye, again. I shook and stiffened as he decided now was the moment and released full-flow. I pictured it spurting from his tip and hitting the walls of my vagina, filling me, sticky, white, creamy and so beautifully warm, more and more, so much until I could feel and see he had no more and let out a huge gasp and satisfaction, of all done.
He rolled away and we lay there, me still bound, legs held closed keeping all of it in me. I felt a huge wave of sleep wash through me, my body drained but happy, as he untied me and I curled up in a duvet he threw across me and then, then I drifted away only dimly aware of him spooning behind me and joining me in some nowhere land.